Page 87 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
I never even knew her hand.
Dear Elizabeth,
I’m terribly sorry that I can’t be with you on such a confusing, momentous day, but a reaper will come to me within days, I’m afraid. And your beloved Papa was always better in a crisis than I was.
Contrary to what we told the family, we didn’t meet in Taiga after he survived a shipwreck in the northern skerries. I collected him from the waves and escorted him to shore. It was love at first sight, my dear, and I decided to leave my old life behind.
Don’t resent him. We agreed this is the story you should be told until you are old enough to hear the truth—or until your Sea Fae blood manifests.
The light of my heart, my wonderful little girl, please know our kind isn’t as wretched as you’ve heard. The siren’s song our goddess Melpomene gave you is a gift. And like most god-given powers, it comes with great responsibility. We live in a harsh world that has forgotten how beautiful a siren’s song can be. A world of quick judgments and misconstrued fears. Were you to be discovered, to be identified as a Sea mutt... It ices my blood right in my veins, just thinking about it.
Sirens are punished for the magnetic pull we have on men, but it’s not something we can entirely control. You should always be able to tell the good ones from the bad, so trust your instincts, my darling. Be careful of going too close to the sea, as it would only strengthen your song. To write down any more about where I came from or the secrets of our blood would be too much of a risk, but know I love you even in death. With enough practice, I know you will find a way to use your song as a blessing to the world, not a weapon.
I only wish I could have heard you sing, my Beth. I’m sure your voice is magnificent.
Your loving mother,
Melissa
That’s it, then. I’m a siren. Aidan never loved me. He never meant to cheat in the trials and lure me into his gravity. It was all a spell, an enchantment of my own making. And if anyone finds out, I won’t only be expelled from the academy, but executed for seducing the Crown Prince of the Summerlands.
Chapter 26
Royal Seal
SONGBIRD
The summer break both flies by and drags on, weeks blurring together with studies and grueling shifts at the bibliotheca. Between helping patrons and shelving books, I comb through volumes for any mention of sirens, my thoughts constantly straying to Aidan.
“Ahem.” Papa clears his throat, pulling me from my reading at the breakfast table. I look up to see him holding a pile of letters, his brow raised expectantly. “I checked the mail,” he says, giving the stack a small shake. “Look what I found.”
He fans the letters over the table. In the middle of the pile, a folded piece of plain parchment causes my heart to skip a beat. The folded letter is sealed with a blank dot of wax, just like all the others Aidan sent me. A heavy blush taints my cheeks at the prospect of reading another of his sweet, passion-filled, and frankly erotic notes.
Guilt for not writing back creeps up my spine as I pick it up, but a high-pitched gasp shakes me out of my reverie.
“Is that a royal seal? By the spindle, that paper is so fancy. Who is it from?” Marge climbs to her knees on her chair, leaning over the table to look at another letter, this one glimmering with gold dust and adorning the royal Summer seal.
“Language, Marjorie,” Papa sighs.
She grips the side of the table and offers him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Uncle Paul.”
By Thanatos.The only other time I’d received such a fancy missive was when I got my official invitation to the academy’s admission trials.
What if they’d finally connected the dots? Worse, what if Aidan, tired of waiting for an answer, had done something rash?
Papa’s thumb lingers on the royal seal, rubbing over it with fascination. When he finally hands it over, my stomach sinks. There’s no escaping this. “Well, Lizzie? Tell us who it’s from.”
My fingers tremble as I tear open the seal, the crisp parchment wrinkling under my touch. My eyes dart to the signature at the bottom, and I exhale, the weight on my chest lifting. “Willow Summers,” I breathe, relief washing over me.
Papa’s eyes brighten at the name, and he settles back in his chair. “Well? Tell us more.”
I discreetly slip Aidan’s note between my thighs, hiding it from view.
“Yes, tell us,” Kiro chimes in, his voice lively with curiosity.
Marge nods quickly. “Please.”
I glance at the three of them, their focus unwavering, and carefully edit out a few details before reading a few curated sentences of the letter aloud.
